The Winter's Heart
by RenakhiteInk
Summary: Don't you ever marvel at the concept of love, no matter how pure and tainted it is? Can you ever really stop loving someone with the snap of a finger? Could you manage to bring back two hearts that were once torn apart?
1. Chapter 1

_"Darkness... it was the first thing I remember."_

Rhea jumped in her seat when the bell rang. It was all ready in the middle of the term, and she still hasn't gotten used to it. Everyone got up, slung their backpacks over their shoulder, and trudged for the classroom door. Some were talking about this arcade opening up in town; some were talking about the movie that recently came out in the local cinema, and a few called out their half-hearted goodbyes to her. She smiled back in return. Every day, the same tedious routine.

While the others ran out the door like antelopes being chased after, Rhea took her time. She gingerly placed her books inside her bag, and slung it over one shoulder. As she made her way out, Rhea lightly ran her fingers on top of the wooden desks, feeling the dents of etched hearts and words.

"Rhea, wait up!" Someone called out to the girl, making her turn around in surprise. Rhea didn't exactly have a lot of friends in school or have people know her name. Most of the time, they referred to her by her last name (because that's what they heard when the teachers took their attendance) or poked her shoulder to get her attention.

"Do you need anything, Cariza?" Rhea asked the girl once she was within hearing distance, curious as to what she needed. They shared a few classes together but hardly any words. Cariza was one of the better known students, with beauty and a brain to match.

"Let's walk to the bus together," Cariza smiled, jerking her head towards the school's open doors where Rhea could see her fellow schoolmates rushing out the gates. It was Friday and even she couldn't wait to leave the building. The girl slowly nodded her head and followed Cariza out the doors and towards the bus.

The moment they entered the vehicle, Rhea could already see some of the girls move aside, making room for Cariza and she wondered why she even wanted to walk with her. It was obvious Cariza had friends who wanted to sit and chat with her. Cariza waved to her friends and walked down the aisle of the bus, Rhea silently following her. Rhea found an empty seat and easily slid into it, ignoring the fact that Cariza went all the way to the back of the bus.

Rhea dropped her backpack to the seat beside her, sure that no one wanted to sit there, and pulled out her iPod. The bus lurched forward and Rhea prepared herself for the trip back home. She looked out the window, listening to the soft music her iPod was playing, and watched as the snow fell to the ground, pilling up. Winter had just begun and already the white blanket covered everything. Rhea leaned her head against the cold glass and watched as the window frosted with every breath she took.

"What are you going to do for the project?" Cariza's voice shocked the girl, causing her to jump in her seat. Rhea pulled out one earphone and looked at Cariza in confusion. She could see that the girl moved her backpack to the floor and took the seat beside her.

"Project?"

"The Family Tree?" Cariza trailed off, waiting for Rhea to catch on. She continued speaking when Rhea's mouth formed an "O" in realization. "At the moment I can only go as far as my great, great, great grandmother but I really want to go further. We get a better score that way."

"I only know my parents," Rhea said quietly, tucking a stray stand of her brown hair behind her ear.

"You're kidding, right?" Cariza's eyes widened when Rhea said she wasn't. "You haven't even met your grandparents?"

"We moved after my parents got married and never visited them," Rhea shrugged. "They live in Burgess…. Or used to… I'm not sure."

"That's like two towns away!"

Rhea nodded, most of her attention lost on the song blasting from her iPod. "I know," she said, giving the girl a polite smile. In no less than a minute, she was already humming the tune of a song she's been continuously listening to for the last three days. Rhea was about halfway through the second verse when she felt a poking at her side. Turning to her right, she saw Cariza talking, but the words were drowned out by the music. Removing one of her earphones, Rhea was able to catch the last few words of what the other was trying to say: "...do you have any plans?"

"For the tree? I don't know - I'll probably use the internet." Rhea raised an eyebrow. Most people rely on the Internet for their answers.

"No, silly! What I meant to say was: since Christmas is coming up, do you have any plans for it?" Cariza asked, a grin plastered on her face.

"Plans?" Rhea repeated, her brows knitting in thought. Her family didn't really celebrate Christmas. They didn't hang up mistletoe, decorate their house in flashy colours and lights and there was never a Christmas tree in the middle of their house to put presents under. Rhea would be lucky if she even had presents on that day. Every year she would sleep until noon and wake up to find that her parents were just seated in the living room, reading a book or writing a paper.

When she told Cariza this, the girl was once again shocked. "You don't celebrate Christmas? Are you Jewish?"

"Even if I was, I don't think we'd celebrate Hanukkah either," Rhea replied in a thoughtful voice, imagining how it would be like if she was Jewish. She imagined waking up at noon and finding her parents reading a book or writing a paper. "I guess my parents don't see the need to give presents if it isn't your birthday. They think I'm too old."

"Aren't you like… fifteen?"

"If I want something, I can buy it with my own money." Rhea said, remembering her parents' words of wisdom. Her piggy bank was nearly full with all the money she's been saving for the past few years. She didn't exactly have an object in mind that she wanted to buy. In fact, she only saved up for the reassuring thought that if she ever needed anything, she already had the money to pay for it.

Cariza frowned. "Rhea… that's so sad. You don't know who your grandparents are and you don't even celebrate Christmas! Are you going to tell me you're abused as well? That you cut?"

"What? No!" Rhea gasped and her hands immediately shot up to her mouth. She had not meant to react so loudly. The mere thought was just too shocking. "Cariza, I live in a happy home. We just do things differently than other families. My parents are just a bit too serious."

"You're telling me," Cariza muttered under her breath and Rhea took this as a sign that their conversation was over. She placed her earphone back into her ear, ready to look out the window once more and lose herself into the song when the bus slowed to a stop. Her lips curved into a small frown and when she looked out the window, she saw that she was at the bus stop near her home.

"See you tomorrow, I guess," Rhea said softly, picking up her bag and walking out of her seat. Cariza sent her a smile and Rhea returned in, curious as to why the girl was suddenly friendly with her. She quickly hopped off the bus and briskly made her way home, passing by the different houses that had blinking Christmas and inflatable reindeer on their lawn. When she reached her house, she noted how plain it looked and entered it silently.

Inside, she could smell the French roast from the kitchen. Rhea guesses that one – or both – of her parents are working on a report or something that concerns business and calling people and raising voices at them. She passed by the living room, where her father usually sat typing away on his laptop.

"Hey there, sport," he greeted without looking up. "How's school today?"

"Okay," Rhea replied, dropping her bag beside the table and kissing her dad's cheek. "Got a ninety eight on my Math test."

Her dad sighed, removing his glasses and wiping them clean – as if they weren't crystal clear already. "Sport, you studied for that – I even helped you. How come you got a measly ninety eight?" He looked at Rhea with disapproving eyes. "In this family, we strive for excellence, for perfection. Want to know why? Because that's what the world wants to see." He was pointing at her with one end of his glasses. "Now," he said, sitting straight up, "Why don't you go to your room and do your homework?"

"About that... I need some help," Rhea bit her lip, trying to find the words to say. Her parents never dwelled into the topic of their family and Rhea assumed it was a subject best to avoid. She had read about children whose parents ran away from home or cut all ties with their parents because of an argument. Apparently, when someone has a history like that, it was best to leave all conversations involving family before their generation alone. Then again, this was school work and if she could only trace her roots back to her parents, she wouldn't get a perfect score and her dad did say they strived for perfection.

Her dad glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "With what, sweetie?"

"I need to make a family tree and frankly, I only know you and mom," Rhea said carefully, testing how far she could go with the subject. "To get a perfect score, I need to go further back. I need to know grandma and grandpa's name and perhaps their parents and their parents' parents?"

Sighing, Rhea's dad pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright," he said, "There's a box in the attic that's filled with odds and ends your mother doesn't want to throw out. At the far corner, I believe."

"Thanks, dad," Rhea grinned, suddenly excited that she would be able to find out more about her family. She picked up her school bag and rushed towards the staircase towards the attic. It was an odd feeling in her stomach. Usually she wasn't eager to do school work but this particular one made her heart clench at the thought of finding out more of her roots.

It was like something was pulling her towards the attic. Like something wanted her to find it.

* * *

_A/N: There you have it, folks! The first chapter I've written in ages. I have watched the movie, and I'm looking forward to reading the books. _  
_This is a collaboration between me and AnimeFlowerGirl, the author of one of the amazing, smashing, well-written fanfics, Frosted Glass._  
_Constructive criticism is much appreciated, as well as reviews! Don't be afraid to leave a review - it's one of the best things a writer could ever receive._  
_A review to a writer is like a child believing in the Guardians. Thank you for taking the time to read this story, and we hope that you'll stick with us!_


	2. Chapter 2

Rhea went up the staircase, a bounce in each step. After dumping her bag just outside her bedroom, she zipped towards where the attic was located. She came to a plain door on a scarcely decorated wall. Rhea jolted the knob open and pushed the door in. Inside were boxes stacked on top of each other, furniture draped with a white sheet, a bay window at one side, and a – was that her old rocking horse? As if stepping into a newfound piece of the world, Rhea carefully took a step in. Immediately, the aura wrapped itself around her. The light dancing its way into the dark room made Rhea see the dust idly floating around.

Far corner...far corner... Rhea navigated herself around old trinkets and antiques that have been put away. First of all, there were about six corners in the room. The girl went and checked the ones nearest the door. There was so much of the world in this dark room! Why did her mother trade them away for a simpler and duller look? Wonder began to fill the girl's eyes, but she had to concentrate.

Just when she was about to postpone the history hunting for tomorrow, Rhea heard a whisper from the north side. She couldn't make out the words, but it was tugging her there. When she reached the corner, there were about three boxes. She opened them one by one, only to see more bits and pieces of a family history that was locked away. Rhea needed documents!

Finally, when she opened the last of the boxes, Rhea found the oddest of things. She gingerly reached in and pulled out a beautifully crafted box with some sort of puzzle on it. Next, she pulled out shells of (Easter?) eggs, snow globes, a snowflake crystallized in a small clear sphere. There was a crack on it, though, so she paid extra care to this little thing. Lastly, she found drawings – lots of them.

"That's odd," Rhea muttered, gingerly looking through the artworks in her hands. From what she knew, her family wasn't exactly gifted in the art department. Well, she guessed they weren't for her house was dull and boring and she never saw her family pay any mind to anything other than their work which was far from anything that had to do with the right hemisphere of their brain. In fact, much to Rhea's disappointment, she couldn't even draw a heart let alone people.

One drawing had a boy soaring through the air on a sled and the others seemed to feature the boy's friends. Several of the drawings, Rhea noticed, held the same set of characters. There was a large man in a red coat and a Russian-looking hat, a rabbit that stood on its hind legs and seemed to be as tall as a man (if not taller), a short golden man, a woman covered in feathers and a boy with a hoodie, staff, white hair, and no shoes.

The white haired boy seemed to be in a lot of the drawings and Rhea wondered why. "What's so important about you?" She asked the drawing as if she was expecting it to answer.

She flipped through more drawings before reaching the final few. The white haired boy was now joined by a girl around his age with long black hair. Rhea's eyes widened at the sight of her. Where in the world did she come from?

Rhea looked into the box once more and saw a battered leather notebook inside. Her brows shot up when she saw that it was held shut with a garter and some of the pages were about to fly out. She carefully opened it and saw that on the first page was a name: "Property of Jamie Bennett".

"Jamie Bennett?" Rhea mused, flipping through the pages. Jamie's hand writing was neat for a boy's and every few pages held a doodle at the corner of the page. Majority of the doodles were the white haired boy but there were also some of the Russian man, the rabbit, the feather-clad woman and the golden man. There was also some that had the dark haired woman.

"Could he be my grandfather?" Rhea asked when she flipped back to the first page, reading Jamie's name once again. "Or perhaps great, great?"

Rhea flipped to the last page and found a wrinkly, slightly-torn piece of paper. Some parts of it were faded and blurred, as if tears had landed on them. What must have been elegant cursive written on the paper was unreadable. It was if water splashed onto it. Big and fat drops of water, that is.

It was signed by a woman named 'Ana.' At least, that's what she can see clearly. The rest were indistinguishable Who was Ana? Could it be the feathered woman? The black haired girl? Jamie's wife? The silence rang in her ears as she let the message sink in. Riddles – Rhea's never been good at riddles. She held the paper a little further away from her, looking at it every which way. She even held it up at the light, but nothing new came up. It was an old crumbled bit of paper with ink blotches that carried out a puzzle.

Rhea put the letter inside the pocket of her jeans and put everything back to the box. She wanted to know more of this Jamie Bennett. Picking up the box with both hands and cradling them in her arms, Rhea made her way back to her bedroom. All in all, she was happy she found something from her past.

As she walked past the bay window, the girl didn't notice the growing floral patterns of frost form on the glass.

* * *

Dinner, as always, went as smoothly as dinners go. For the most part, anyway. Rhea has yet to touch her plateful of lemon chicken and pork tonkatsu. A palm was to her cheek, while her free hand was making a dome with her rice. Now, the teenager has more or less behaved like so, but not if two of her favorite dishes are served up. She'd have finished it in three minutes flat – and that's including seconds.

Her mother, a lovely woman with chocolate hair and eyes, noticed the sudden change in her daughter's demeanor. "Sweetie," she says, sharing a glance with her husband, "Is something the matter?"

"Huh?" Rhea blinked, sitting straighter in her seat and dropping her hand to her lap. She caught her parents' worried looks and shook her head. "Oh it's...nothing."

"It's not _nothing_ dear," her mother replied, "It doesn't take a huge stretch of imagination to know that. Tell us, what's wrong?"

Rhea bit her lip and glanced down at her plate, pocking the meat around with her fork, thinking of how she should phrase her words. Family was a touchy subject and it wasn't really a dinner conversation for them. "It's just..." She paused, taking in a deep breath. "I just have this project and... and I'm not exactly sure how to do...it?"

"Is this about the Family Tree?" Her father sat back in his chair, slightly surprised. "Well, I'm sure you'll find your way around it. Rest your mind – I think you're putting too much pressure with the thinking and all."

"It's not exactly easy, dad," Rhea pouted. "I only found some trinkets. I need names. Their names, their spouses and children."

"Trinkets?" Rhea's mother repeated, raising her eyebrows. "How – where..." She trailed off, not knowing how to ask the question. It registered in her mind that her daughter found _the_ box. "Why were you up in the attic? Couldn't you have just asked your father?" She shot a pointed look at her husband.

"Dad said to go up there," Rhea shrugged. "And I want to go as far back as possible. I'll get a higher grade if I do."

Her father grunted, clearing his throat. "I - I believe there's some documents in my study. It doesn't go very back, just your great-grandfather's grandfather. Will that suffice, dear?"

Rhea pursed her lips, wondering if she would be satisfied with that. It would give her a reasonable grade but that was just her father's side. She needed her mother's side too. "That's great and all, dad, but..." She trailed off, thinking twice about what she was going to say. The air at the dinner table was tense and she didn't know if what she was going to say would make anything better. "I need mom's side too."

"Just make up names, Rhea! They'll never know!" Her mother suddenly cried out, slamming a hand on the table.

The girl's eyes widened and she jumped slightly in her seat, surprised at her mother's actions. She sucked in a deep breath and looked over to her father for help. The man wasn't making eye contact and Rhea wasn't quite sure as to what to do next.

Tension hung in the air; the silence was deafening. It was a few moments before the lady at the table has finally convinced herself that she's calm enough. "Apologies, dear. Just... just finish your dinner and go up to your room," she said carefully, focusing on each syllable so as not to repeat what had happened recently. "We will not speak of this tomorrow or the following days. Understand?" She looked straight at her daughter's eyes, waiting for an answer.

"Un...Understood," Rhea stuttered out, picking up her fork and knife, digging into her meal. She guessed asking her mother about Jamie Bennett and Ana was a big NO-NO.

* * *

Rhea brushed her hair away from her face and sat down on her bed, turning to face the box she got from the attic. She had just finished her nightly routine (taking a quick shower, brushing her teeth and slipping into her favorite cotton pajamas and said goodnight to her parents. Her door was locked and she figured no one would check up on her at this time of hour. Biting her lip, Rhea opened the box and carefully took out Jamie Bennett's notebook. She furrowed her brows and flipped through the pages once more. Rhea gathered that Jamie Bennett was from her mother's side of the family and from the bits and pieces of his writing that she read, he didn't seem all that bad. Why would her mother be so against the idea of her knowing her family? Her mother never told her to make up names before! Heck, there was even a time when Rhea had to interview one-hundred people in two days and her mother threw a fit when she asked if she could just make up names for the paper. Why now? What was going on?

"Who are you, Jamie Bennett?" Rhea muttered, turning to the first page of the notebook.

* * *

_A/N: There's chapter two! We apologize for not updating sooner - undertakings on this side of reality have been keeping us up. We thought it unfair if we update immediately, posting a half-arsed chapter. Anyways, we hope that this chapter was quite the wait! Remember, every review (and criticism) counts._ _Thank you for taking the time to read this story, and we hope that you'll stick with us!_


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